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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26062462">Michael's Nap</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintmichael/pseuds/saintmichael'>saintmichael</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Pre Canon, michael is a workaholic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:34:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26062462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintmichael/pseuds/saintmichael</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael likes to work hard but when he reaches the end of his fuse he crashes just as hard.<br/>Pre-Supernatural, pre-civil war, pre-humans.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Michael's Nap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>Things are breaking, and children are misbehaving, and projecting that should have been completed <em>months</em> ago, Michael has discovered, were instead shoved inside cupboards and forgotten about. He’s busy, busy busy busy, fixing things and glaring at people and his heads are hot and they <em>hurt</em>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He puts a file of all the problems that have yet to be solved on his deputy’s desk and flees.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>In Father’s Palace, a plane of existence which soars several dimensions above Heaven, are plenty of gardens and forests, and several large lakes. Michael flies to one and completely submerges himself in the depths, the cool water a soothing weight on his hot and bothered faces, and he lies on the lakebed, feeling depleted. He’s too old for this.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Several weeks later, he’s grasped by Father’s steady hand and firmly pulled out of the lake. Father holds him in His hand as He peers down at His firstborn. “Michael, there you are,” He says, His voice echoing through their surroundings a thousand times. “We were worried about you. We were looking for you everywhere.” This does not make sense to Michael, as firstly, Father is omniscient, and secondly, if Father wanted to see Michael He could simply call to him in his mind. But then Michael sees Morningstar sitting on one of Father’s other hands and realises exactly who was worried.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“My apologies, Father,” he says reverentially. “I was overwhelmed and acted irresponsibly. I’ll make sure to do better next time.” Father frowns at that response.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Michael... have you been practising delegation?” He asks. Michael wants to duck his head from embarrassment but he must not in front of Father.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, Father,” he answers dutifully.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Your servants are there to prevent you from getting overwhelmed,” Father continues. “If you were delegating your work as we have discussed, I can’t see why it would be an issue.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The issue is that even when Michael allocates an appropriate workload to the lower angels, they fuck it up anyway. But it’s improper to argue with Father in front of Lucifer, so he says, “Yes, Father.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So you weren’t delegating?” Father sounds so disappointed and it hurts.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I have been delegating, as you instructed, but when mistakes are made I do have to step in.” Michael is trying to explain without making excuses, but he wonders if he’s being at all effective there.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Perhaps I should make more angels then,” Father muses. No, no, no. That would simply exacerbate the problem. Michael stares at Lucifer, begging him silently for assistance.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Dad, more angels just means an even bigger workload for Michael,” Lucifer says candidly, and Michael feels relief rush through his body. “He said he’s going to work on the issue so just give him a chance to do that before taking such a drastic measure.” Michael smiles gratefully at his brother.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But Father says, “Morningstar, this does not involve you. Go. You will be chief prince for now.” He lifts Lucifer up to the sky and Michael’s brother gives him a what-can-you-do shrug before spreading his wings and leaping off Father’s palm, his dive easily becoming a graceful soar and he departs the realm of Father’s Palace. Father turns Michael’s main face to His and Michael trembles a little, wondering why Father is angry enough to demote him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re not being demoted,” Father says soothingly. “You’re taking a holiday.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Father, please don’t read my mind,” Michael says reproachfully. It’s the one thing he asks of his Father and he wished He would respect it. Father pats him on the head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I know you’re a bit of a workaholic. We’ll take a few months off and when you come back you’ll see things haven’t fallen apart without you, okay?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A few <em>months?</em> No, not possible. In fact he dreads to think what had become of Heaven in the three <em>weeks</em> he had been passed out in the lake. Father doesn’t know. Father sits in His Palace, entirely disconnected from the affairs of Heaven. He has no idea how involved the day-to-day running of it is. Michael and Lucifer are down there - Lucifer can’t handle it on his own, he’ll break even worse than Michael did, he’s sure.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Father,” Michael protests. How to explain that to his Father will be the difficult part. “I can’t -” But Father muffles him by pressing him to the center of His form and takes them to the Palace. He forcibly guides Michael to his private quarters and stands in the doorway, looking stern, until Michael reluctantly sits on his circular bed of cushions.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You are on holiday until I say so,” Father says firmly. “Rest. No work. It’ll be fine.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But it won’t be fine. “And when it’s not, and I return to Heaven in ruins?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We’ll deal with that when it comes, on the vanishingly small chance it does,” Father says. “For now, rest. Michael, I’m very disappointed in you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Oh.</em> Michael curls into a ball at that. He didn’t mean for this to happen. He hears the thud of the door closing. It’s rare for Father to intervene in their affairs these days, he supposes. He must have really been a bad boy.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He cannot rest. He wallows in misery instead.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
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